


Trigger

by Valaks



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Eagle Strike AU, I'm Sorry, Three Cheers for Bitter Revenge, it hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valaks/pseuds/Valaks
Summary: Wolf seems scary until you hand him the flag for Alex Rider’s casket [SpyFest 2020 Week 4 Winner]
Comments: 16
Kudos: 170
Collections: Spyfest 2020





	Trigger

Yassen stood silently next to Cray in the office waiting for his pronouncement of how to handle Alex Rider. The man was unhinged but liked to keep his hands clean. Even his plan would only require him to key in a few codes and push a button. Sanitary. He wouldn’t see the carnage or death he wanted to cause directly, it wouldn’t even touch him. Yassen expected him to leave Alex’s fate in his hands and he could handle that. He would prefer Alex not be here in the first place but he would give him another chance to survive. He did not expect Cray to pull a gun and shoot Alex Rider. 

Yassen did not even blink before firing his own bullet the moment he saw the teen crumple. Cray’s body hadn’t even hit the floor before he was at Alex’s side. 

Blood was pooling out from a wound just below his rib cage. Survivable, he noted. Taking stock of the boy's unimpeded breathing and the light color of the blood. Definitely survivable, he affirmed again more to reassure himself than anything. He had gotten lucky. 

Yassen immediately applied pressure but was shocked when Alex didn’t react physically. No wincing not trying to flinch away, not even any kind of yell or cursing like he expected.

Instead his brown eyes found Yassen’s blue full of panic and fear “I can’t feel anything.” 

No.

“You need medical attention.” He stated snapping out an order for paramedics into his radio.

“That’s not going to fix this.” There was panic in his voice but also a strange kind of certainty. 

“You could be rehabilitated.” He hesitated

“You’re lying” 

“Spinal cord injuries can be recovered from. Maybe not to your original state but...”

“ I can’t feel _anything_. I can’t move my fingers. _Nothing._ ”

“With treatment you will regain it.”

“For what? I wouldn’t be able to walk or run or even kick a football let alone hold one.” He was getting more panicked as he spoke “MI6 wouldn’t use me again but they wouldn’t help me.”

He rambled on but Yassen’s attention stopped with the mention of his employer. He knew for certain that MI6 wouldn’t let him live. Alex Rider, teenage spy, was alive only for his usefulness. Outside of that he was a liability of the highest order - actual, physical evidence of MI6s duplicity and corruption. He would be dead the moment his prognosis was confirmed. 

To keep him alive Yassen would have to take him and personally shield him from MI6 and the boy’s enemies. Yassen’s as well. He would hate every painful moment, resent not being able to do all the amazing feats he could now, and there would be nowhere for him to go to get away without being killed if he didn’t find a way to do it himself. He would be Yassen’s pet - taken in and cared for but hating it or...or he could put him down. Yassen would ask the same. 

The boy was silent now, staring pleadingly up at him.

“What do you want, Alex?” He needed him to say it. Maybe it would help dissuade him to put it into words.

“Kill me.”

He couldn’t help the wince at the desperation in that plea. “You’re certain?

“Please.” 

A mercy kill. He had certainly killed for less. 

He took a steadying breath and raised his gun, noting the slight tremor of his hand. Even as he twitched his finger against the trigger he knew the shot would go wide. 

Alex opened his eyes in surprise and confusion. “Did you miss?” He supposed Alex wouldn’t know if he couldn’t feel anything but he knew enough to know that Yassen Gregorovich _didn’t_ _miss_. 

Unless it was Alex Rider.

Even when he _was_ bleeding on the ground, paralyzed, and begging him to kill him, he still missed.

He couldn’t make the shot. 

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t help. He fished around in his pocket and pulled out the small cyanide pill stitched into the side of it.

“Can you swallow?”

“Can’t you just shoot me?” The fear was back. A bullet would be simple and painless. More importantly Alex wouldn’t have to _do_ anything to earn that death. With this he would have to take ownership even if it was just to swallow. Maybe this was for the best then. Alex could still turn back.

“I can’t.” he admitted softly and something warm bloomed in Alex’s eyes and that made a part of him hurt in a way he hadn’t felt in _years._ “But I can do this. It will only take a minute, I promise.”

“Thank you” he said softly

He pressed the pill to the boy’s mouth and Alex took it eagerly.

_No_. 

But it was too late. 

He bit back the lump in his throat and watched Alex Rider die with a foaming smile on his lips.

* * *

A week later Yassen watched through a scope as soldiers precisely folded the flag that had been draped over the top small coffin. He trailed slowly among the somber faces and lingered as he saw the tears tracking down the cheeks of a short Hispanic soldier. It was unusual. No emotions were supposed to be shown by the Honorguard in respect for the mourning family. It was clear he was trying his best to maintain his composure but in the face of just _why_ he was performing the act and who it was for, Yassen understood. Burying a 14 year old who died for Queen and Country was certainly something to cry about. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t shed a few tears for Alex Rider too. But tears weren’t the only thing that would be shed for him at this funeral.

He swung his scope around and didn’t even hesitate pulling the trigger, watching as red and gray chunks spat out of the back of Alan Blunt’s head. Tulip Jones followed shortly after. 

He didn’t even remain to look at the carnage. Just packed his rifle and climbed down the stairs of the office complex and disappeared into the throngs of the busy London streets. If the intelligence community did not get the message with the deaths of the head and deputy head of MI6 Yassen would be happy to deal out more. He couldn’t pull the trigger on Alex Rider but he certainly could for him. His only regret was that he hadn’t done it sooner.


End file.
